This heart, if like a flower provides fragrance to others
Then it also tramples the love for those and memories of those who ***** it with their thorns
As this heart isn't made of flowers.

©Spriha Kant

Withering by the prolonged waiting for someone is strangulation of euphoric flavor.

© Spriha Kant

On the muted music of the zephyr, the viridescent folks' dance and the fluffs veiled in white, sallow, and orange tinges glide in the mid-air. In this pristine swathe shield by a mysterious guard against intruders, there's no gravity to land from jovial vibrations.

© Spriha Kant

When fear flutters me I close my heart's shutter for preventing its entry inside me.

© SPRIHA KANT

Self-love is a zone prohibiting the entrances of painful solitude state and inferiority complex.

© Spriha Kant

I have always been reluctant for stepping towards the path of expertise because the kid inside my heart laughs out innocuously on my foibles which I prefer over demeaning.

©  SPRIHA KANT

Sometimes one doesn't emit any shade or tone.We actually see the reflection radiated by the prevailing situation upon one's own aura.

© Spriha Kant